


With her Head Tucked Underneath her Arm.

by aikoa



Series: stealer of hearts and heads [1]
Category: 16th Century CE RPF, Historical RPF, The Tudors (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:28:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25726681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aikoa/pseuds/aikoa
Summary: She'd been expecting him.
Relationships: Anne Boleyn/Henry VIII of England
Series: stealer of hearts and heads [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888930
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	With her Head Tucked Underneath her Arm.

  
"You of anyone should know how quite ill-mannered it is of one to spy, my love."  
  
He flinched, the chill of the bare stone floors licking at his feet as he subconsciously stepped backward at the full appearance of his wife. She had to re-attach her head before she could turn behind to him, a smile dancing on her pale lips.  
  


"My, you never were one for sneaking, were you?" Her rhetorical tone danced across the cold stone walls of the hall as her amusement grew at the look of utter shock on his face.  
  


"You knew I would show?" He asked carefully once his initial surprise had fled him. Her smile only grew.  
  


"Mayhaps I did," came her simple reply.  
Then her grin faded ask quickly as it showed and she seemingly looked straight into any remnants of soul his spirit had carried with him, her dark eyes glistening in the soft moonlight flooding in through the windows.  
  


“Why have you dare visit me now?” her sharp voice asked, “after all this time?”  
He had no response ready. She cackled at his dumbness, and turned away.  
  


“We fought everyone,” she said, tone harsh, “ _I_ fought everyone because I wanted to be with you, because I _loved_ you  
Her hard tone faded into a broken whisper as she still refused to meet his remorseful eyes, _“I loved you”  
  
_

“Anne-”  
  


“ _Henry_ ”, she spun on her heels to face him again, allowing him to view the sorrow painted across her face before she placed her hands on the sides of her head and detached it cleanly and completely, before tucking it silently under her arm.  
  


“In the Tower of London, large as life” her head sang, “‘The ghost of Anne Boleyn walks’, they declare”  
“For Anne Boleyn was once King Henry's wife. Until he made the headsman _bob her hair”  
  
_

“Please,” came his quiet request. She connected her head with her neck once more.  
  


“Why?” was all she asked, “why did you do this to me?”  
  


“I don’t know,” he pleaded. Her smile returned.  
  


“Yes, you do.”  
And she made to disappear before he’d called out to her again,  
  


“Anne!”  
  


“ _Henry!_ ”  
  


“I was foolish!” He roared. Her jestful tormenting manner evaporated at his sheer bluntness and she frowned,  
  


“What?”  
  


“I was a fool.” He stated, “I thought- _God,_ I thought so many things,”  
  


“You thought me guilty,” she piped in 'helpfully', “of witchcraft. You thought I cheated on you, yes? With one _hundred_ men, with my _brother!”_ _  
_ He at least had the decency to look guilty as his blue eyes fell to look upon the ground, anything to not meet her burning gaze.  
  


“It was the fall, wasn’t it?” her soft voice broke through seconds of agonizing silence. He quickly looked up to see her, unbelieving of the _worry_ in her tone he swore he’d heard, especially after the yelling she'd just delivered to him.

“After everything, I’d never bed another but you, you knew that.” She said, “the fall off your horse, ..it had messed with you, hadn’t it?”  
  


Had the year still been horrid ‘36 and they’d both still been alive and wedded, he’d have most certainly commenced one shouting match with her for claiming that he had possibly been wrong in the head. But it was not, and now, he was certain he agreed with her on this.

“I do believe so,” he replied, cautious and quiet. She hummed in response.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, voice breaking, his icy-light eyes shining with unshed tears.  
  


“I know you are,” she replied smoothly.  
  


“I know you could never pardon what I’ve done to you,” he knew he did not deserve her forgiveness, he most likely _never_ would.  
  


“Not yet, not now,” she said, approaching him and taking his hand as a sign of comfort, whether for her or him unknown, “I need...time”.  
  


But then she smiled again. A _true_ smile, one of compassion and understanding, the one which he’d fallen for those many years ago.  
She lead him to the window and they basked in the pale light of the moon and stars above them as they looked upon Tower Green, imagining the kingdom that would thrive under a new rule, a _better_ rule.

  
“But lucky for us, we have all the time we could ever need.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think I like the way this turned out, but I'm posting it anyways.  
> So, hello.


End file.
